


Genesis

by LittleObsessions



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Episode: s05e10 Counterpoint, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Threesome - F/M/M, miserylovescompany, sweepingbiblicalmetaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 20:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15979652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleObsessions/pseuds/LittleObsessions
Summary: ""You underestimate her Commander," he says, his pale hand coming up to close around her throat. "And you overestimate yourself.""





	Genesis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiaCooper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaCooper/gifts).



> Thank you to the incredible Killer Manatee for her imitable and swift beta'ing skills with this story. She curbed my proclivity for verbosity, I'm grateful.
> 
> This is for MiaCooper, who deserves a reminder of the queen she is and her limitless capabilities by way of a grotesque threesome straight from the fevered 3 a.m. imaginings of my twisted psych. You got this. 
> 
> Have I just reopened the Counterpoint Vignettes?

 

* * *

 

**"For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil." _\- The Book of Genesis_**

 

 

He has committed a great number of crimes. He has blood on his hands.

He once thought - naively - that slipping back into this uniform would birth him anew, wash him clean .Absolve him of his horrors, and set him on the path he should have followed.

There are worse tricks than believing this can happen. For example: one can fall so deeply in love with a person who cannot be saved, but one can believe themselves a saviour anyway.

And the devil, as they say, is always in the details.

Her skin shines white, a sheen of sweat that shimmers iridescent in the light of the stars.

He watches them and they are so engrossed he knows they are unaware of his presence. Up and down; feral and animalistic and full of filth and lust.

He should go. Every decent fibre of his being insists upon it. And yet he remains exactly where he is. Because terror and envy are the first of the sins he will commit tonight.

"Why don't you just join us Commander?"

The whole room seems to empty of air then, making it swell with tension, and the two people who are fucking on the bed - because that is the only appropriate word for it - stop. And only one of them is shocked by his appearance.

She looks suddenly terrified, as if all of her veneer has been tarnished. As if she didn't know this would destroy the few remaining fragments of the hope he held for her.

If only.

"No," she says, imperative, though she makes no move to climb out of the alien's lap or to cover her body.

Kashyk carelessly pushes her from him, and stands. He goes to the decanter on the bed stand, and pours himself a drink. He is lean and leonine, and furiously hard. His cock shines wetly in the dim light.

"I think he's handsome," Kashyk says then he turns to the woman on the bed. "And let's face it; he's desperate to fuck you."

Chakotay's fingers flex into fists and he swallows. All truth, he knows, but no less repulsive for having taken form in words.

"Kathryn I came to-" he begins, knowing nothing will salvage this.

_I came to tell you not to make this mistake. I came to beg you not to do this._

"Your excuses are unnecessary," Kashyk mocks. "She knows what you came for. You have your answer."

Chakotay looks at her then, really looks at her. She has crawled back under her sheets. He hopes to see pain, or humiliation, or apology in those iron eyes.

They are empty. Full to be brim with nothing. She simply draws her eyes down his body and then stops on his tented uniform pants. He feels humiliation flooding him. Equanimity threatens to shred his righteousness to tatters.

Kashyk sees this, and leans into her from his position by the bed. His voice is a lilting, musical hiss.

"He came because he wanted to convince himself this wasn't happening. You want him Kathryn, just as he wants you..."

She says nothing. Neither confirmation nor denial fill the space he leaves for an answer, but he smiles like she's given one. Then he strokes her hair gently, and Chakotay almost feels it by proxy.

"You haven't had a decent fuck in years," Kashyk says casually. "Why not have two now?"

"Go Chakotay," she orders finally, weakly, not making eye contact with him.

She knows, he knows, this will not be real come morning if he leaves now. They will be able to continue pretending if he wills himself to turn. To resist the invitation.

"Or stay," Kaskyk says silkily. "She's already started eating the apple. Why deny her the feast?"

As he says this, he climbs back onto the bed, and starts withdrawing the sheets from Kathryn's body. She lets him. She lies, supine and open, and allows him to expose her. Entirely and without reservation.

For a second it crosses Chakotay's mind that she may be drugged, or even under some sort of neurological control, but then he realises those are his hopes, as opposed to her realities.

No. This is exactly what Kathryn wants.

Or, at least what the woman who occupies her skin wants. He isn't entirely sure his conception of Kathryn ever existed at all.

Kashyk is sliding his mouth up her abdomen, licking the indent between her stomach muscles. Forked tongue, leaving a trail of glistening saliva. And as he does so she tilts her face toward Chakotay, and her eyes are alight with fire and lust and want. She crooks two fingers on her left hand, an invitation, and he is already across the threshold.

Both the literal and the metaphorical.

The only influence here is release, and the strange power that Devore space has exercised over her. And the five years of pain which have stripped her of the last of her innocence.

And hunger. She hungers for the knowledge of someone else's body.

And in the pause hangs the love he once held for her. And the need to to have more of her.

As Kashyk takes a nipple into his sharp mouth and bites down, she moans, and reaches up to grasp Chakotay's pants, her hands tracing the outline of his cock. He undresses and she watches, eyes half-lidded and glazed, and when he is completely unclothed she curls up and away from Kashyk to slide her mouth - no preamble, no look of trepidation - around him. His hands twist into her hair, and he has to grind his teeth to stop himself coming there and then. Kashyk is behind her, one hand reaching over her shoulder to toy roughly with a reddened breast. As he pinches her nipple she moans around Chakotay's cock. And to that soundtrack Kashyk looks him directly in the eye:

"It seems our little captain has fallen."

Chakotay wants to kill him,  punish him in a way that will make him weep for mercy.

None of this is alright. None of this is what either of them wanted, and yet that is what temptation does. And pain.

She squeezes his thigh, five lean fingers digging into the solid flesh - l _et this happen, what use is there in pretending now?_ \- and so he does. Because he is not as strong as the forces compelling him. And hell is already on their doorstep.

Yet he considers himself the gatekeeper of the last shreds of decency between them.

Pulling on her hair, he slips from her mouth and tilts her face towards him, so she is looking up.

"How quaint," Kashyk lilts. "He wants to kiss you."

She closes her eyes - as much an invitation as the earlier one - and so he does, but she tastes different to what he imagined. Coffee. Whisky. Alien.

He knows Kashyk is sucking on her neck, he feels him inches away from his own face. That is somewhere he is unprepared to go. This, he thinks, is Kathryn's symphony. Not Kashyk's.

Though he is the orchestrator.

"Have you ever had two men fucking you before?" Kashyk inquires, as if he's asking her the time.

"Yes," she rasps, ensuring she maintains eye contact with Chakotay.

In the subtext is the assurance she is not fragile. He already knows that, he requires no reassurance.

Kashyk smirks and pulls her backward, so she lies on the bed.

"Of course you have." He looks at Chakotay. "Disappointed?"

"Nothing she could do would ever disappoint me," he stares at him, without flinching, as he answers.

"Don't lie," she says softly, arching up as Chakotay begins to circle her clit with deft fingers.

He wants to weep.

Kashyk pulls her head towards him, and she opens her mouth so willingly that envy cracks across Chakotay's consciousness like a whip. He slides one finger, then two into her, he takes a moment to savour the tightness of her body, the way she is willing and warm, but he cannot bear the sight of what she is doing to that bastard.

"Envy is a dreadful feeling," Kashyk says with a grin, hand cupping the back of her head and thrusting into her mouth. "It can make us do things we never envisioned."

In response he curls his fingers in her and delights when she moans and bucks her body into him.

"So can love," he says quietly, falling to his knees and closing his mouth around her, tasting the heat and salt of her body. He revels in the wholeness of it in comparison to the terror of this moment. She bucks again, and her thighs tighten around his head and neck.

She is too far gone to understand the worship in this act, the singular desire to retrieve what they have lost, but it's a quest he intends to undertake anyway.

He moves up just to see her gasp away from Kashyk's cock, and the alien stiffens with irritation as she grips the sheets and pushes her body in an arc from the bed.

"Come," Chakotay commands softly, before returning his tongue to her slick cunt and insisting upon his order.

She moans into the tight heat of the moment, and the sound reminds him of a wounded animal. When she is done she lies, languid, and Chakotay casts his eyes towards Kashyk. And for the first time, he sees the creature's composure slipping.

"So the lady does like romance," Kashyk observes lightly. "Not my initial impression," he yanks her up by the hair, "and certainly not my style."

Her salacious grin sends Chakotay into a spin he fears he'll be unable to come out of, and he watches, powerless, as Kashyk bends her onto all fours and with nothing resembling a preamble buries himself to the hilt. She moans and her own hand slips between her open thighs and she begins touching herself.

"This is how I took her last night, isn't it Captain?"

She merely moans an affirmation. Chakotay watches for another moment, then pushes one of her shoulders up while simultaneously sliding into the space in front of her. It forces Kashyk to adjust, so that he has to sit back on his heels and pull Kathryn with him.

Glazed eyes stare up at Chakotay, a smile that under the right circumstances could be a grimace, and he cups her cheek and kisses her slowly and gently, his tongue only grazing her swollen mouth. His hand lightly caresses her breast, and she sighs her delight into his mouth as Kashyk's thrusts push her forward into his palm.

"Chakotay..."she whispers, so quietly that he may even have imagined it.

"Let me," his hand falls between her legs again, pushing her hand away, sure not to graze Kashyk's cock as it stretches her wide.

"I could be this for you," he says softly. "I can give you want you need."

Kashyk laughs and he feels it through Kathryn's bones and skin and soul, it slips through the thinness of her.

"You underestimate her Commander," he says, his pale hand coming up to close around her throat. "And you overestimate yourself."

Her eyes are clouded with ecstasy and terror. He could give her this, he knows. Because he has always known this is who she is. And he is willing to take that fall with her.

"No," he keeps watching her, watching her impending orgasm from Kashyk's thrusts, his strangling hands, Chakotay's own fingers, and maybe even his promises. He stares into her eyes.

"I could do this for you, I could do anything for you. But only with you full consent. I would use my hands whatever way you wanted, you wouldn't have to go to these lengths," he answers, never once drawing his eyes from her face.

"Your desperation is going to make me come," Kashyk quickens his movements, short and sharp and Kathryn begins to whine. "You understand your captain thinks she's fallen so below your graces she couldn't bear to ask that of you."

The tears tracking down Kathryn's pale cheeks are his answer. He shakes his head.

"Then she has underestimated me," he says softly, looking deep into her eyes.

Kashyk lets out a strangled cry and Chakotay feels Kathryn's muscles tense as she falls forward, moaning as she comes too. He holds her shoulders as Kashyk withdraws, and examines the picture before him with something that looks like jealousy, and something which looks like defeat fluttering across his face.  

He simply laughs, and begins scooping up his clothes as Chakotay lies Kathryn down. Tears are still sliding down her face. Her eyes begin to clear.

Kashyk looks at him, and then at Kathryn as Chakotay lies down beside her, shielding her. 

"Perhaps she did underestimate you after all."

And Kathryn turns her face away from him.

 

 

 

 


End file.
